


Revelio

by HeyYousGuys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Frottage, Getting Together, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, M/M, Roommates, Sappy Ending, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 16:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYousGuys/pseuds/HeyYousGuys
Summary: It was all McGonagall’s fault. Her and her stupid “school unity, regardless of house” policy. They had 2-person bedrooms, rather than the 5-or-so-person bedrooms they’d always had at Hogwarts. And they were mixed among houses.For the first two months, it didn’t matter. Malfoy spent all of his time in Blaise and Neville’s room anyway. He only dared enter he and Harry’s room to sleep. At first, it hadn’t really bothered Harry too badly. He had wanted to be Malfoy’s friend, sure. But, apparently, the stupid git thought he was too high and mighty to live with a Gryffindor. But then Harry had realized he was wrong about that: after all, Malfoy was practically living with Neville, who was a Gryffindor.So then Harry had switched to thinking that the stupid git was still holding on to pureblood ideals and couldn’t be bothered to live with the son of a muggleborn. But that wasn’t right either, for he sometimes joined both Seamus and Dean for games in the common room.So what was it about Harry that repulsed him so much?





	Revelio

It was all McGonagall’s fault. Her and her stupid “school unity, regardless of house” policy. Harry had known he would be sharing a dorm with the other 8th years, but he assumed he would be sharing his actual bedroom with the other 8th year Gryffindors. But, no, that wasn’t Minerva’s style, apparently. They had 2-person bedrooms, rather than the 5-or-so-person bedrooms they’d always had at Hogwarts. And they were mixed among houses. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad, if they had gotten to choose who they roomed with. Harry would’ve picked Ron, if he had been allowed to choose a Gryffindor. But, barring that, a nice Hufflepuff, or a quiet and studious Ravenclaw would’ve done nicely. Heck, if gender didn’t matter, he’d pick Luna! But, noooooo, that was, apparently, not the point of “school unity”. They were supposed to set the example by setting aside their differences and showing a united front among all 8th years, so that the younger students would follow their lead. 

And, so, McGonagall had assigned roommates, claiming she had a formula worked out whereupon every student would be paired with “someone they needed to make amends with in order to promote unity and friendship among all Hogwarts students”. What a load of bullocks! 

For the first two months, it didn’t matter. Malfoy spent all of his time in Blaise and Neville’s room anyway. He only dared enter he and Harry’s room to sleep. He even showered in Blaise and Neville’s room most days, unless Harry was already up and out of the room. 

At first, it hadn’t really bothered Harry too badly. He had wanted to be Malfoy’s friend, sure. But, apparently, the stupid git thought he was too high and mighty to live with a Gryffindor. But then Harry had realized he was wrong about that: after all, Malfoy was practically living with Neville, who was a Gryffindor. So then Harry had switched to thinking that the stupid git was still holding on to pureblood ideals and couldn’t be bothered to live with the son of a muggleborn. 

But that wasn’t right either, for he sometimes joined both Seamus and Dean, who were already playing with Theo, for games in the common room. 

So what was it about Harry that repulsed him so much? Why did he stay away? Why couldn’t he even look at Harry or talk to him? 

Harry had tried. The first night, after the start of term feast, he had walked into the room to find Malfoy already in there, unpacking his trunk. Harry had stopped just inside the door, waited for Malfoy to look at him, and smiled tentatively at the handsome blond in front of him. Malfoy seemed confused at first but chose to just look down and continue unpacking. 

“Hey,” Harry said, trying not to let Malfoy’s reticence bother him. 

He waited for a response.

He got none. 

So he tried again. “Would you like some help unpacking?” Harry offered. Malfoy just shook his head and said nothing. “Okay then….” 

Harry wondered over to his own trunk and opened it. He breathed in the familiar, comforting smell. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears. The smell of the trunk had brought about emotions he hadn’t expected. It was really over. He was really at Hogwarts. He was really safe. He felt tingly all over. Whether from grief, shame, anger, relief, happiness, or all of the above, he did not know. 

He sank to his knees and put his face in his hands. He took deep breaths. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Just like his therapist had told him to do when the emotions were too much. Gods, they were always too much. And, right now, they were threatening to overwhelm him. He continued breathing, focusing on the positives, bringing himself down from the edge of panic. 

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He felt like someone was watching him. He whipped his head around to see Malfoy staring at him, his eyes full of horror and pain. 

Why would McGonagall pair them up? When they were both suffering so much PTSD still? Surely one would trigger the other and emotions would run high and the tension would boil over and that would just lead to more fighting. It wouldn’t promote school unity. It would just reignite their old rivalry. 

Harry braced himself, waiting for Malfoy to insult him, to mock him for showing emotions and being weak, to say something scathing that would cut him to his very soul. 

Instead, Malfoy let a single tear fall before turning on his heel and swiftly running out of the room. Harry, still fighting his own emotions, was in no state to run after him and help him. He added “guilt for triggering sadness in Malfoy” to his growing list of emotions coursing through him. He collapsed heavily onto the floor, his knees no longer able to hold him, and let it all out. Sobs wracked his body as he heard the door to his room open again. 

Harry didn’t even care if Malfoy saw him this vulnerable. Sod him, the prat! He’d just have to deal with seeing the real Harry. They were roommates now and Harry didn’t have the energy to pretend he was fine. 

But it wasn’t Malfoy who came over to him and pulled him into an embrace. It was Ron. Harry looked up at his best friend incredulously. Had Malfoy run out of the room and summoned Ron to comfort Harry? Or had Ron just happened to walk in at the exact moment when Harry needed him most? Harry clung to his best friend and didn’t even try to put a stopper on his crying. He was safe with Ron. Ron knew he needed to get things out. Ron had been there for several of Harry’s meltdowns already. And Harry had been there for Ron’s. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” Harry spoke up, once he was finally calm enough to talk. 

“It’s all right, mate. I’ve got plenty more. Besides, you’re more important than a shirt.” Ron smiled kindly at Harry and Harry smiled weakly back. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you just happened to be coming to see me at that moment, eh?” Harry laughed humorlessly. 

“I wasn’t,” Ron replied. And Harry felt his heart leap for some reason. “Malfoy came and got me.” And there it was: what Harry had somehow known all along. Malfoy had summoned Ron. But why? “He was crying himself,” Ron continued, “but he said I needed to go see you right away. And then he ran out of the room. I was so shocked by Malfoy being thoughtful that I nearly forgot to come find you. I’m glad I did, though.” 

“I’m glad you did, too.” 

Malfoy never returned the rest of that day. And Harry was so busy wondering why Malfoy had been so kind as to summon help when Harry needed it that he had never finished unpacking. He had fallen asleep shortly after Ron left, exhausted from so many heavy emotions weighing him down. 

\- - - -

Harry had managed to unpack his trunk without breaking down again. Though just barely. There were so many memories in there. Luckily, Hermione had had the presence of mind to pack for all three of them back in early August, otherwise Harry might never have been able to leave for Hogwarts at all. 

The only thing left in his trunk, besides things he never intended to remove, was Malfoy’s wand. He waited for an opportunity to give it back to the other man. To thank him for his help during the war. To thank him for his mother’s help. To try to strike up another conversation. 

He got his opportunity just after lunch on their fourth day of classes. He had come back to the dorm to grab some more parchment, intending to go to the library to get started on homework right after his classes ended for the day. He hadn’t seen Malfoy at lunch, so he should’ve realized where his former rival and current roommate might be. But he was still a little blindsided to see Malfoy in his bedroom. 

He was even more blindsided to see Malfoy holding a photo album that belonged to Harry. He was sitting on the floor, next to Harry’s bed, looking at the photos with wonderment in his eyes. Harry stood silently and observed him for a few moments. Malfoy was unguarded as he perused the pictures. He even smiled at some and laughed at others. He touched a photo reverently and closed his eyes, almost as though he were sad. Harry couldn’t stand there any longer, he needed to know who Malfoy was sad for. He strode over to Malfoy, his movements jarring Malfoy and causing him to scramble up guiltily and try to run again. 

“It’s okay! Don’t go!” Harry called after him. But Malfoy continued toward the door. “Please!” Harry pleaded. 

This gave Malfoy pause. He stopped but didn’t turn around to face Harry. 

“It’s okay for you to look at my photos. I don’t mind. Really.” Harry said kindly, hoping Malfoy heard the sincerity in his voice. 

Malfoy’s shoulders remained tense.

“Do you want me to explain them to you? Tell you about the people in them or the stories behind the photos?” 

Malfoy just shook his head. He made a movement toward the door again. 

Harry felt desperate, he didn’t want Malfoy to go. “Wait! Just one more thing!” 

Malfoy paused again. 

Harry opened his trunk and took out Malfoy’s wand. Harry didn’t need it anymore. And he didn’t know how Malfoy had gotten through classes thus far without it. He had meant to give it back to him that first night. But his breakdown had scuppered that plan. 

Harry slowly crossed the room and approached Malfoy cautiously. “Here,” he said quietly, hoping not to startle the blond. 

Malfoy turned slowly and looked down at Harry’s outstretched hand. His jaw fell open and his eyes went wide. He looked at Harry in shock. “Why?” he whispered, then closed his mouth and stepped back, as though he hadn’t meant to speak the word out loud. 

“It’s yours. You should have it back.” Harry extended his hand out, hoping Malfoy would take the wand. But he didn’t. He simply turned and rushed out of the room again. 

Sighing heavily, and not knowing what else to do, Harry laid the wand down on Malfoy’s bed and walked out of the room without his parchment. 

\- - - -

That was when Malfoy had stopped coming to their room except to sleep. He had come in that night, seen the wand on his bed, and broke down crying. When Harry tried to ask if he was all right, he pulled his pillow over his head and refused to acknowledge him. It was pretty clear that Malfoy wanted nothing to do with Harry at all. Though Harry did notice that Malfoy slept with the wand clutched to his chest, as though he had missed it dearly.

\- - - -

The next two months had seemed to crawl by. While Harry very much enjoyed being in his classes again, the signs of how much the war had changed things were everywhere. Parts of the castle were still broken, despite the rebuilding that had gone on over the summer. Harry was forced to walk past the places where he’d seen people die, where he’d seen their dead bodies lay. Heck, every time he went to the Great Hall for a meal, he was reminded of Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Lavender, Colin, and so many others. 

And while Harry loved being back home at Hogwarts, the constant stares, whispers, and love notes from the younger students drove him mental. McGonagall had been very firm that anyone approaching Harry for an autograph or taking his photo or harassing him in any way would be docked 50 House points per occurrence. That didn’t stop them from finding other ways to annoy Harry, however. 

Not that they were trying to annoy him. Quite the contrary. They were all just trying to get the attention of the most famous wizard in the world. He couldn’t blame them. But he could be annoyed by them, and often was. In his already fragile mental state, everything seemed to annoy him lately. Especially his roommate’s refusal to spend time in their room while conscious. 

It shouldn’t have irked Harry as much as it did. But, with each passing day that Malfoy spent avoiding him, Harry grew more and more irritated. He had to do something before it drove him totally mental. 

But what? Harry spent all evening in his room, trying to come up with a plan. But nothing occurred to him. He decided to sleep on it, figuring he had the weekend to try to figure things out. 

Finally, around 10 a.m. the next morning, it dawned on him. He rushed out the bedroom door and hightailed it to Hermione’s room. Her roommate was just the person he needed to see! 

\- - - -

“She’s not here right now,” the dark-haired woman stated as she opened the door and spotted Harry. 

“I’ve not come for her,” Harry clarified. “I’ve come for you. I need to talk to you.” 

“Me?!” Pansy said incredulously. “What on Earth could you possibly have to say to me? Besides ‘screw you for trying to turn me in to the Dark Lord’? And I’ve already owled you an apology note, explaining that-”

“You were scared and didn’t want a battle to begin. Yeah yeah. I read your note. If you recall, I owled you back and told you I forgave you. And I meant it. I don’t care that you tried to turn me in. Water under the bridge, Parkinson.” Harry smiled, to show her he was telling the truth. He cared a little. But he also understood why she had done it. 

“Then why are you here to talk to me, of all people? What could I possibly do for you?” She glanced over her shoulder to a spot in the room that Harry couldn’t see. He tried to peek around her, but she barely had the door open at all. Satisfied that whatever she was hiding from him was put away, she stepped back to let him in. He smiled appreciatively at her and entered the room. He sauntered over to Hermione’s desk and sat down at her chair, turning it to face Pansy. 

“I need to know why Malfoy won’t talk to me,” he stated simply. 

“Oh.” Pansy said, closing the door and glancing at a particular spot in the room. She went and sat at her own desk, turning the chair to face Harry. “That.” 

“Why is he avoiding me?!” Harry’s tone of voice practically begged for an answer. 

“Is it really bothering you this much?” Pansy inquired. 

“Yes!” Harry stood up and began pacing, his hand subconsciously running through his hair and messing it up even further. “It’s not like he’s doing it because he hates Gryffindors. He stays in Blaise’s room all the time, with Neville. So he’s not avoiding Gryffindors altogether. And it’s not like he’s still holding to pureblood ideology. He’s talking to Seamus and Dean, after all. And it’s not like he’s agreed with his father in a long time anyway.”

“Not since 3rd year,” Pansy commented. This gave Harry pause. He knew Malfoy had switched allegiances before the war, but he’d always thought that 6th year was the start of that. Harry had no idea that Malfoy had begun seeing the errors of his ways much sooner. 

“Oh,” Harry spluttered, still confused. “I mean, I knew he felt that way by 6th year. But 3rd year? Wow! I had no idea!” Harry turned to face her, asking frankly, “so… if it’s not because I’m a Gryffindor and it’s not because my mother was muggleborn… then why is he avoiding me? What did I do?” Harry sat morosely down on the chair, slumping against the back and staring at the floor. 

“It’s not you, Harry…,” she began, but Harry cut her off.

“It absolutely is me!” Harry protested, nearly shouting. He stood up and began pacing again. “He talks to everyone else. I see him, chatting away with people in the common room or in the Great Hall. But when he sees me, he stops and practically runs away! And if I dare speak to him in our room, he pulls the covers over himself and refuses to talk to me. I just need to know what I’ve done wrong, so I can apologize for it and try to reconcile with him!” 

“Reconcile?” Pansy inquired. “What an odd choice of word.” 

Harry paused, confused as to what she meant. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she explained, “the word ‘reconcile’ implies that you were friends before… I’m just wondering why you chose that word.”

“Well…I mean, it’s not like we were friends, exactly. But we were… civil… during the war.”

“He was going to turn you in when he found you in the Room of Requirement. Before Crabbe started the fire. Wasn’t he?” Pansy’s tone of voice was cautious, as though testing Harry. He had no idea why she was asking it this way. She glanced again at that same spot in the room. Harry wondered what she was hiding, but he didn’t ask. 

“No. I honestly don’t think he was,” Harry answered. “I think he was trying to keep up the facade because he had to. He couldn’t let Crabbe and Goyle know that he had no intention of turning me in. If Crabbe hadn’t started the fire, and Malfoy had shown that his allegiance had changed, Crabbe and Goyle could’ve told Voldemort.” Pansy tensed at the name but let Harry continue explaining. “Besides, he could’ve knocked me off of our broom as we were flying out. It’s not like he couldn’t have pulled it off. He’s as good a flyer as I am. Better, actually. He had the chance to kill me then and he didn’t. Just like he had the chance to turn me in at the Manor and he didn’t. I don’t think he ever intended to turn me over to you-know-who.” 

Harry sat triumphantly back down, knowing he had passed whatever test Pansy had been trying to put him through. She smirked knowingly and sat up straighter. 

“Very well then,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “I can’t tell you why he won’t speak to you.” At Harry’s odd look, she held up a finger to stop him from asking any questions. “I know why he won’t. But I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” Harry nodded, accepting this. “I will, however, talk to him on your behalf. And try to persuade him to talk to you.” 

Harry’s face lit up at this. 

“I can’t promise anything!” Pansy added quickly, reacting to Harry’s elation. “But I will try.” 

“Thank you, Pansy!” Harry said, striding over to her chair and pulling her into a hug. 

“Oh dear Merlin!” she huffed. “Please tell me you’re not a constant hugger. Because I can take a lion attack once in a while. But if this is going to be a consistent issue, inform me now so I can build a protective cage around myself.” Her tone was sarcastic, letting Harry know she wasn’t seriously considering the cage. But he nonetheless noted to himself not to hug Pansy anymore. 

“Sorry!” He stepped back and gave her space. “I should’ve asked before touching you. That was extremely rude of me.” He gave her a sheepish look and she simply waved away his apology. 

“Why did you hug me?” 

“I was just so happy!” Harry explained. 

“Happy because… ?” 

“Because you said you’d talk to Malfoy for me. And maybe he’ll stop ignoring me. And maybe we could be friends in the future!” Harry’s heart felt lighter than ever at the prospect that he and Malfoy might one day be friends. 

“Would you like that?” Pany asked cautiously. “Being friends with him, I mean.” 

“Well, yeah!” Harry responded emphatically. 

“Can I ask....,” Pansy began but stopped herself. “Never mind. Forget it.” 

“No,” Harry replied, “go on! What were you going to ask?” 

“Just…” Pansy looked at the floor, not meeting Harry’s eyes, “... why do you want to be friends with him?” 

“You’re friends with him. What’s so bad about being friends with him? He’s not a bad person.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Pansy explained. “It’s just… oh, bugger, I’m going about this the wrong way. I just need to come out and say it. Draco’s going to kill me for this later, but…” 

Harry waited with baited breath to find out what secret Pansy was about to divulge. A million different scenarios raced through his mind and he had no idea which of them would be the truth. If any. 

“Given your history, Draco thinks that you hate him. So are you trying to be his friend because you genuinely want to get to know him, the real him? Or are you just trying to be his friend because you have some stupid savior complex and feel the need to make everyone adore you?” 

“If you’re even entertaining the latter, you know nothing about me.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, I know!” Pansy stated firmly. “But I need you to say it. He won’t believe me otherwise.” 

Though he found her statement odd, Harry didn’t question it. He wondered if the area that she kept glancing toward contained some kind of recording device. Otherwise, why would Malfoy even believe her? If he honestly thought that Harry was only kind to him because he wanted Malfoy to adore him, why would he take Pansy’s word for it? Surely, if she knew already that this wasn’t the case, she would’ve told Malfoy this. So what difference did it make if Harry said it out loud or not? He chose not to ask her, instead asking something else, far more important. 

“So… you said given our history that Malfoy thinks I hate him… does this mean… Have you discussed me before?” Harry felt silly asking, as though he was revealing some secret to Pansy. Which was silly, of course. He had no reason to feel this way. But he couldn’t rid himself of the embarrassment that accompanied his inquiry. 

“Of course we’ve discussed you, dummy! Everyone talks about you. You’re the famous boy wonder!” The sarcasm was back. Only this time, it made Harry laugh out loud. 

“Not what I meant, Parkinson!” After a moment, he grew somber, almost afraid to clarify. “Have you discussed the possibility of us being friends before?” 

“Oh bollocks!” She said, surprising Harry. “He’s going to kill me for this. But, yes. We have.” 

“Why?” Harry breathed the word, in awe that the possibility of he and Malfoy being friends had ever come up before. 

“Why does it matter so much?” Pansy countered. 

“Because. I want to be his friend. And if there’s even a remote possibility of that, then it’s more than I could hope for. It’s not like I’ve given him a reason to be nice to me, after all. We’ve always fought. And I rejected him when we were little. I mean, hell, I almost killed him 6th year! After that, I figured he’d never want anything to do with me. When he didn’t give me up in the Manor, my heart soared. It was the first time I thought there could ever be a possibility of us being friends. What reason in the world does he have to ever forgive me and want to be my friend? I don’t deserve his friendship. But you saying that you’ve discussed this possibility before, it gives me hope. I don’t know why it’s so bloody important that he and I are friends. I can’t explain it, even to myself. But I need to be his friend. I want to know him. I want to be able to have chats with him and share meals with him. Hell, I want to share secrets and inside jokes with him!” Harry couldn’t believe he was pouring his heart like this. But it was all true. He had never given Malfoy a reason to want to be his friend. 

“You two are so freaking similar. It’s maddening!” Pansy commented. She pointed her wand at the spot she had been continually glancing at and muttered “Revelio!” 

Harry looked over, to his horror, to see Malfoy standing there. He must’ve used a disillusionment charm on himself earlier, which explained why Pansy was so hesitant to let Harry into the room. ‘Bollocks!’ Harry thought to himself, ‘now he’ll never want to talk to me ever again.’

“I’m going now,” Pansy said tersely. “You two need to talk and work out your issues.” With that, she exited, slamming the door behind her. Harry heard it lock, ensuring that he and Malfoy wouldn’t be interrupted. 

For several tense moments, they simply stood there, staring at one another. Finally, Harry had the presence of mind to sit down. He motioned to the other chair for Malfoy to sit as well. Grey eyes simply stared at him, unblinking, before Harry could see Malfoy’s mask of indifference overtake his face. 

“Oh no!” Harry stood up fiercely and charged over to him. He had no idea why he was doing it, but Harry grabbed Malfoy’s lapels and pushed him up against the wall. He looked him eye to eye, their noses practically touching. “Don’t you do that! Don’t you put up your walls and shut me out, Malfoy! I won’t have it. You already heard me pouring my heart out. You know this will turn out in your favor, so just let me in! Don’t hide from me!” Harry waited for Malfoy to respond. But all he could see was fear in the other man’s eyes. “Please,” Harry whispered softly, practically a whimper. “Please,” he repeated, “I need you.” His eyes pleaded with Malfoy to believe him, to stop shutting him out like this. It was driving him crazy, not having Malfoy in his life. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed Malfoy to talk to him. 

And then… he felt it. His eyebrows knitted together and his look changed from pleading to questioning. Malfoy tensed, a serpent coiled to attack. Harry looked down and saw confirmation of what he already knew: Malfoy was hard as a rock, his firm cock pushing against Harry’s thigh. Harry looked up and saw absolute horror in Malfoy’s eyes. He glanced down again and admired the way Malfoy’s heavy cock bulged in his pants. To his surprise, Harry realized that he liked it. 

He looked back up to Malfoy’s eyes, his pupils growing wider with lust. Malfoy now looked confused, unsure why Harry wasn’t running away in revulsion. 

Harry took a steadying breath, gathering up all of his Gryffindor courage, before rubbing his thigh against Malfoy’s erection. He heard Malfoy gasp before moaning in pleasure. Harry felt his own cock filling at the sound. 

Blimey! Who would’ve thought? Harry had never even entertained the possibility that he might be into blokes. He had spent his pubescent years fighting for his life. He’d never truly had time to explore his sexuality. It took him by surprise how turned on he was by the sound of Malfoy moaning in pleasure. 

He rocked forward, brushing their pelvises together. Malfoy’s eyes grew even wider. Confusion spread across his face. He looked down, to see Harry equally as turned on as he was, then looked up at him in bewilderment. 

“But… you’re straight,” Malfoy commented. 

“Evidently, I’m not,” Harry commented, motioning toward his hard length. He rocked them together again, eliciting moans from both of them. 

“Oh gods, please tell me this isn’t a dream!” Malfoy pleaded.

“If it is, I don’t want to wake up!” Harry responded. 

“But… you hate me…” Malfoy protested weakly, rutting against Harry this time. 

Harry moaned lewdly before replying. “I most certainly do not. I don’t know if I ever have.” 

“Why?” Malfoy whined, almost in tears. “Why are you doing this?” He pleaded.

“Because,” Harry replied, looking Malfoy squarely in the eye, “I want you, Draco.” At this, Malfoy gasped. It was the first time Harry had dared to use his first name. 

“Say it again,” Draco asked. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered reverently, thrusting his hips against Draco’s and grinding down. Draco shuddered with pleasure. 

“We should…” Draco paused his thrusts and took a deep breath. Harry whined at the loss of friction. “We should take this to our own room, don’t you think? Pansy will hex our bollocks off if we fuck in her room.” Harry’s cock twitched with lust when Draco said the word ‘fuck’. 

“Okay…” he pulled back from Draco, “...yeah.” He took a deep breath. “I just need to… umm… calm down a little.” He gestured toward his crotch and Draco nodded, in the same predicament himself. 

They took a few moments to breathe and just look at one another. Draco was so beautiful. Sharp angles and sinew and muscle. His grey eyes held a depth to them that Harry had never noticed before. He smiled shyly at Draco, who returned the grin. 

Once they were calmed down enough to walk back to their room without tripping over themselves or shagging each other senseless in the corridors, they exited the girls’ room and made their way to their own. Harry wanted desperately to grab Draco’s hand and hold it as they walked, but he wasn’t sure if Draco was ready for public displays of affection. He wasn’t even sure if Draco wanted affection or just a quick and dirty fuck. That was something they’d have to discuss. ‘Later!’ his libido told him. ‘Now!’ his heart commanded him. Harry wasn’t sure which one he’d listen to once they got into their room. Judging from how he ogled Draco’s ass as the taller man entered their room ahead of him, Harry thought maybe his libido would win out.

Safely inside, Harry closed the door and turned slowly to face Draco. The two stared at one another for several moments, afraid to make the first move. 

“Look, I-” “Harry, we-” 

They both began at the same moment. 

“Sorry,” Draco said, “you first.” 

“I was going to say that I need to know if you want me or if you just want a fuck. Because, while I very much am down to fuck you, I don’t think my heart could take it if that’s all you wanted.” Several tense moments passed as Harry couldn’t read the expression on Draco’s face. “What were you going to say?” He finally broke the silence.

“Harry, we need to talk.” 

Harry’s heart sank. He knew it. Malfoy just wanted a shag and nothing more. He would be too embarrassed to be seen with Harry in public. They would fuck and things would go right back to how they had been before Malfoy overheard Harry talking to Pansy. Shite! 

“I’m not in this for just a quick shag,” Malfoy continued. “I’ve been in love with you for years.” Harry looked up, stunned. He hadn’t expected Draco to say this. He’d had no idea, honestly. He thought Draco had hated him, right up until he refused to identify him in the Manor. 

“But…,” Harry tried to make sense of everything, “you hated me.” 

“I assure you I didn’t.” Harry just stared at him, confused. “Okay, maybe I thought I did early on. My pride was wounded when you rejected me. You were the famous Harry Potter. I had admired you all my life. I couldn’t wait to be your friend. And then you acted like I was scum on a pond. Like my very being repulsed you. And I reacted poorly. And then… well, everyone just expected us to fight and insult each other. And my family… well, I had to pretend to hate you. Father already beat me enough as it was. Can you imagine how much worse it would’ve been if I had spoken highly of you and treated you nicely?” Harry gasped, hearing this. He had known Lucius was a vicious person. But he had never imagined that he would’ve beaten Draco. 

“I’m sorry…” Harry muttered. “For everything.” 

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” Draco said, walking to his bed and sitting down on it. He gestured for Harry to sit next to him. Harry strode over slowly and sat down next to Draco, their sides touching. He timidly grabbed Draco’s hand and laced their fingers together, like he wanted to in the corridor between the girls’ dorms and boys’ dorms. 

He looked at up Draco questioningly, fearful that Draco might not want this. But Draco was beaming, looking at their intertwined hands in awe. He met Harry’s gaze and smiled a dazzlingly brilliant smile. Harry’s heart soared. He wanted to see this smile on Draco’s face more often. 

“So…” Harry said flirtatiously, hoping to lighten the mood, “you’ve been in love with me for years?” He winked and Draco laughed. Harry’s soul felt like it was floating on air. 

“I suppose you’d like me to regale you with stories of the many wank fantasies I’ve had of you?” Draco joked haughtily, affecting the tone of his younger years but in a self-mocking way. Harry laughed and Draco sucked in a breath. “I like that sound,” Draco commented shyly. 

“I like your smile,” Harry offered back. They sat and stared at each other in wonder for several seconds before Harry had to ask. “Since when?” 

“Since when what?” Draco sought clarification.

“When did you realize you liked me?” Harry asked, still awe-struck that Draco could ever feel this way about him. 

“Since 4th year,” Draco admitted, blushing and turning away. Harry placed his free hand against Draco’s cheek and pulled his head back so they could look at one another. 

“You don’t need to shy away or hide anything, you know.” Harry said sweetly. 

“I know,” Draco answered, still blushing. “It’s just embarrassing.” 

“It’s just me and you,” Harry motioned around to the otherwise empty room. “No one is judging you.” 

“Your name came out of the Goblet of Fire. And I was scared for you. I didn’t know why at the time, but my stomach sank when your name was announced as a Tri-Wizard Champion. I was scared you would be hurt. Which was silly, of course. We weren’t friends or anything. So I had no idea why I was reacting like this. I thought, at first, it might be jealousy. Like you would be receiving accolades once again while I was largely ignored or hated. But I slowly came to realize… that wasn’t it. It took me a while to sort it out, but I was afraid you would be killed during the trials. And it dawned on me that I had a crush on you.” 

“But a crush isn’t love…” Harry didn’t mean it to sound admonishing. But he was genuinely confused. He would never have known that Draco had felt this way. 

“True. It’s not. But when I watched that dragon leaving the arena, even though it was supposed to stay and protect its egg; trying so hard to kill you, I was terrified. That’s when I realized it wasn’t simply a crush.” 

“But… how could you still feel this way? I nearly killed you!” Harry was filled with remorse. He had always regretted using Sectumsempra against Malfoy without knowing what it did. From the moment he had seen the results, he had felt terrible about it. Not just because he had hurt someone else. But because he had hurt Draco. Seeing his pale body, lying on the bathroom floor and bleeding, it had torn him apart. Just as the curse had literally torn Draco apart. 

“You didn’t mean to,” Draco squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I meant to break your nose. I meant to make those ‘Potter Stinks’ badges. I meant to mock you. I hurt you in so many ways, Harry. Even if you had known what Sectumsempra did, I still deserved it.” 

“You didn’t, though! No one deserves that, but least of all you. You did those things out of jealousy or embarrassment about your feelings for me or because you felt like you had to to keep your father from punishing you. I get it, Draco. I really do. You were doing what you needed to do to survive.”

“Harry, can we please stop rehashing a past we can’t change?” Draco pleaded, sounded broken and exhausted. 

“Okay… sure…,” Harry agreed. There’s just one more thing I need to say before we resume our previous activity. Draco nodded, letting Harry know he could say it. “I’m kind of dense when it comes to self-realizations. I think, looking back now, I’ve liked you for a very long time. But, unlike you, I didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t even realize until I felt your erection pressing against me in the girls’ room that liking blokes might be a possibility for me. My teenage years have been so preoccupied with fighting Voldemort and trying to stay alive that I never had time to explore my sexuality. But I very much am turned on by the thought of you and I shagging! And I want you, Draco. Both in bed and in my life. I just thought you should know that the reason I never acted on anything was because I was too dense to realize how I felt.” 

“Fair enough, Harry. I avoided you these past few months because I was afraid, being in such close quarters together, that my feelings would be obvious and you’d be repulsed.” 

“Definitely not repulsed!” Harry guided Draco’s hand to his trousers, where his erection had come back again, in anticipation of what they were about to do. Draco moaned filthily and rubbed at Harry through his trousers. 

“I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you’re not naked in two seconds, I will hex your clothes off of you and turn them all Slytherin colors.” Harry raised an eyebrow, as though daring Draco to do it. “Bed. Now!” Draco commanded. Harry’s cocked jumped at this. Hearing Draco being so demanding was a huge turn on, one Harry had not expected. 

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, winking. Draco growled ferally at him before literally pouncing on him. 

“Dammit, Harry, you’re driving me wild. Stop being so bloody sexy and get those clothes off. Now!” 

Harry moaned at the command, reaching down to begin undressing. “Keep commanding me, Draco. Tell me I’ve been naughty and I need punished.” 

“Someone has a dom/sub kink,” Draco commented, arching an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t even know I had it until you started barking orders.” Harry winked, tugging his shirt off and watching as Draco’s eyes hungrily roamed over his exposed skin.

“Potter, I swear to Merlin if you don’t have those trousers off in 3 seconds, I will literally tear them off of you with my teeth before fucking you so far into my mattress that there will be a permanent Harry-shaped dent in it.”

“Please do, Malfoy!” Harry begged. “Take my pants off with your mouth. Please!” 

Draco moaned wantonly before lowering himself down and beginning to unzip Harry’s trousers with his teeth. His chin and nose kept brushing over Harry’s cock and it felt amazing. Light, teasing touches, just enough to give him pleasure but not enough to take things further, yet. It was driving Harry mad. He moaned and writhed as Draco managed to get Harry’s zip undone and began using his mouth as well as his hands to pull Harry’s trousers off. 

There were so many sensations happening all at once. Harry hadn’t known that foreplay could be this good. He knew, then and there, that his fate was sealed: Draco was ruining him for anyone else. He would never want another lover as much as he wanted Draco. 

\- - - -

“Draco?” Harry broke their post-coidal silence.

“Yes, my love?” Draco replied, nuzzling into Harry further and kissing his head. As much as Harry thought he would hate being the little spoon, he actually loved the sensations of Draco kissing his head, Draco’s arms wrapped around his torso, and Draco’s legs intertwined with his. 

“Please tell me this isn’t a one-off. Because I don’t think I could ever want anyone else.”

“Harry Potter, you absolute sap!” Draco commented, squeezing him tighter and running his lips lightly along Harry’s neck and jaw. “Of course this isn’t a one-off. Don’t you remember me telling you that I’ve been in love with you for years? I’ve waited so long for this. You are the one who should be telling me that isn’t a one-off.” 

“My poor bed is going to be so lonely, since we’ll be spending every night in yours.” Harry quipped.

“We could alternate,” Draco added. 

“Whatever gets me you, every single night.” 

“I love you, Harry.” 

“I love you, too, Draco.” 

Reluctant though he was to break their current position, Harry rolled over so that he could kiss Draco properly. The kiss turned heated and Draco rose up on his arms so he could roll his body onto Harry’s. 

As they kissed, they slowly rolled their hips together, savoring the feeling. There was nothing rushed about this time. It was pure love making. And as they were still naked from the last time, they didn’t have to worry about changing positions to remove clothing. They could just rock together and relish the feeling of their cocks sliding together. 

“Oh dear gods, this is going to be a common occurrence now, isn’t it?” Pansy commented from next to their bed. They had been so distracted that they hadn’t even noticed their door opening. 

“Pansy, do kindly fuck off. We had the courtesy to leave your bedroom and not fuck in it. I would be much obliged if you would leave our bedroom so we can resume round two.” Draco said nonchalantly, as though your best friend walks in on you having sex every day. 

“Round two already? Dang, boys! Well done!” Pansy high fived Draco before walking to the door. “Oh, and Potter?” 

Harry turned to face her but his attention was instantly drawn back to Draco as Draco rocked firmly against him. Harry let out a moan before turning beet red, realizing Pansy was still looking right at him. 

“Get it over with Pans, so you can get the hell out!” Draco commanded, leaning down to suck a spot on Harry’s neck. 

“He’s waited a long time for this. Hurt him and they’ll never find your body.” Pansy said, turning to exit with dramatic flair. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you!” They heard her say from the hall.

“Fuck off, Parkinson!” Harry heard Ron’s voice say.

“Ron! Don’t come in here!” Harry called, trying hard to mask his breathy moans as Draco began sucking his nipple. 

“You all right, mate?” Ron called as he entered the room. He looked confused as he saw Harry’s bed and chair both empty. Then, it slowly dawned on him what was happening right next to him. He turned to look at them in horror. “Oh, Merlin! My eyes!” He snapped his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. 

“Ron, is everything all right?” Hermione asked from in the hallway. Ron opened his eyes, not daring to look at the bed, and quickly exited the room. 

“Everything’s fine, ‘Mione. Let’s head to your room.” 

“But-” Hermione’s protests were cut off as Draco wandlessly magicked the door shut and locked it. 

“That was so fucking hot,” Harry commented. 

“Wait til you see what else I can do without a wand,” Draco winked at him playfully. 

\- - - -

“Are you done yet?” Harry asked impatiently, throwing his best bitchy look at Ron, who was currently pacing the room and ranting about all of the reasons why Harry and Draco shouldn’t be together. 

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Harry!” Ron protested. 

“Ron, you’re overreacting!” Harry interjected. 

“Give me one good reason why this is a positive thing, Harry!” Ron challenged him.

“Because I love him!” Harry stood firmly, crossing his arms and giving Ron his most serious look. 

“You what?!” Ron replied.

“I love him!” Harry repeated. “I know you might not want to believe that. But I do. And he loves me. And we’re going to be together.” 

“Bloody hell, Harry,” Ron said, sinking down so he was sitting on Harry’s bed. “He loves you?” 

“Yes,” Harry said gently, taking a seat next to Ron. “Has done since 4th year.” 

“Whoa!” Ron’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Then, something must’ve came to mind because he shook his head and held up his hands. “Wait a tick! Why was he still such a prat to you, if he loved you?” 

“It’s a long story. But he basically had to be.” Harry inhaled deeply. “Blimey, he’s going to be so mad at me for telling you this, but I think I have to. It’ll help you understand. You have to swear that you won’t tell anyone.” Ron simply nodded. “His father used to beat him. He would’ve been punished for being my friend, let alone my boyfriend. So he did what he thought would make his father happy.” 

“Gods!” Ron’s voice was dripping with disgust. “I had no idea! I mean, he never looked bruised or hurt!” 

“I didn’t know either,” Harry offered. 

“Blimey. Poor bloke!” Ron commented. “I mean, how can you hate someone who was only acting out of self-preservation?” 

“So...,” Harry dared to hope, “you’re okay with this?” 

“No. But I will be one day. I just need time to process it, that’s all.” Ron smiled at Harry. “Mate, all I care about is that you’re happy. If you really do love him and he really does love you, then that’s it, isn’t it?! That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you: to be happy and safe and loved, man. That’s what all best friends want for each other.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, scarcely believing that Ron was coming around on this. 

“I can’t promise I’ll be nice to him right away. It’ll take some adjusting and I’ll probably be a jerk sometimes. Habit, you know,” Ron said jokingly. “But I will try.” 

“That’s all I ask, mate.” Harry smiled from ear to ear, elated that he might be able to have both Draco and Ron in his life, without all of the drama he had expected would come with it. 

\- - - -

The next few months were strange for Harry and Draco. Their friends group slowly blended together, an odd mix of people who might never have otherwise gotten to know each other. More often than not, the lot of 8th years were found in their common room, playing games together, studying together, partying together, or just chatting together. Harry could never have dreamed it possible. McGonagall’s wish of “school unity, regardless of house” was actually coming true. Harry would have to remember to thank her one day. 

“Happy Christmas, Draco,” Harry whispered in his boyfriend’s ear. They were cozied up together on the couch in front of the fireplace. They hadn’t yet discussed if they would be spending the Christmas hols together, nor where they would stay if they did stay together. This was Harry’s perfect chance. They had two days left, it was now or never.

“But it’s not Christmas yet!” Draco countered, giving Harry a confused look. 

“Yeah, but this is something you need before Christmas,” Harry responded. He nodded to Hermione, her cue to bring the box over. She placed it down in front of Draco and then resumed her previous position on a couch over by the window, next to Pansy and Dean.

Draco looked curiously at Harry, then at Hermione. Then around the room, as he noticed that all eyes were on him. He looked back to Harry, who nodded toward the box. “I had ‘Mione keep it in her trunk for me, since I figured you might find it if it was in our room. But it’s from me. And… well… you’ll see.” 

Draco cautiously opened the box, as though afraid of what was inside. Harry watched as he lifted the book inside and hoisted it onto his lap. Underneath the book was a small envelope, which Draco lifted out as well. He opened the envelope first, even though Harry had intended for him to open the book first. 

“A key?” Draco looked confused. 

“To my house,” Harry explained. “So we can spend the hols together. And… maybe, after graduation, you could move in with me?” Harry looked at Draco hopefully. The look of pure elation on Draco’s face was intoxicating. Harry wanted to see that much joy in Draco’s expression everyday. “Of course, the key is merely symbolic. You’ll be added to the wards, so they recognize you and let you in. And the floo, of course. It’ll be your house now, too. It is, after all, your family’s ancestral home.” 

“But…” Draco’s expression shifted into one of uncertainty. “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” 

“That’s what the book is for. I meant for you to open that first. It will explain just how very okay it is.” 

Still looking confused, Draco opened the book. He read the letter on the front page.

‘My dearest Draco, 

I knew you would be worried about how the people in my life would receive you. Given our pasts, it’s an understandable concern. However, I wanted to assuage your fears and ensure you that you have a welcome and wanted place in my life. 

Please don’t be cross with me, but I wrote to everyone I love and explained some things to them. I told them the reasons behind your actions in the past (that you had to because of your father. I didn’t tell them everything, of course.) I told them how long you’ve loved me. And how very deep your love runs. 

I told them how happy you make me. How you make me a better person. How much I love you in return. I told them all the little things you do to make sure I’m always cared for. How you hold me tight when the nightmares come back. How you make sure I’ve eaten when I’ve forgotten to do so. How you leave me little notes to remind me that you love me. 

I told them that you have a permanent place in my heart and that I plan on marrying you one day.

Enclosed, you will find my letters to each person and their letter in response. Even Ron and Hermione, who I talked to in person first, wrote a letter. 

And, as you read them, you’ll understand just how okay it is. That you fit in my life. That you’re accepted by everyone in it. That I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, so you better get used to living with me because we’ll be living together for a long time. 

Love,   
Harry’

“You didn’t!” Draco looked up, astonished. 

“I did!” Harry reassured him. 

Draco flipped through the pages, taking the time to read both Harry’s letter to each person and each person’s response. Halfway into the first letter, Draco was tearing up. By the second one, the tears were flowing. By the third, he was leaned against Harry’s side, Harry’s arm wrapped protectively around him, as he cried and read all of the letters. 

As he made his way through the book, Draco realized that each person in the room had written a letter. Harry’s friends’ letters assured him that they were not mad at him and that they welcomed Draco into their friendships. His own friends’ letters told them how happy they were for him and that they approved of his relationship. As he read each person’s letter, he turned to them and mouthed a “thank you” before reading the next letter. 

At the back of the book, on the last page, was the letter Harry knew Draco never would’ve expected: a letter from his mother. He gasped in surprise when he came to it. Harry tensed beside him, waiting for Draco’s reaction. 

“My mother?” Draco whispered. 

“Yes,” Harry nodded, unsure if Draco was happy or angry upon realizing that Harry had broken the news of their relationship to her. He knew Draco might have wanted to do it. But he also knew this would be the final obstacle they would have to overcome before Draco would feel totally secure in their future together. 

Draco began reading and, as he did, his tears flowed more freely. Harry gently wiped a thumb across his cheeks, but it was no use. The tears were flowing too quickly. Harry waited, his heart thudding in his chest, for Draco’s reaction. No one in the room made a sound. 

Finally, Draco turned toward Harry and buried his face in Harry’s chest, sobbing. Harry just rubbed Draco’s back soothingly, whispering, “See? It’s okay! Everyone is happy for us. They all approve!” 

When Draco finally had control of his emotions, he looked up at Harry and gave him a small smile. “Harry, this is, hands down, the best gift I’ve ever received from anyone ever. I am so lucky to be with a man like you! Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome,” Harry replied simply. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Thank you all, too!” Draco addressed the room at large, wiping his cheeks and laughing in embarrassment for being such an emotional sap. Before he and Harry got together, Draco would’ve never shown emotion. But once he let his guard down for Harry, it was hard to keep it up for everyone else. 

Everyone, of course, responded with “You’re welcome!” and “I meant every word!” and “We love you, Draco!”

“So… does this mean you’ll move in with me after graduation? And that we can spend the Christmas and Easter hols together?” Harry asked. 

“Of course it does, my love!” Draco replied, leaning in and kissing Harry with reverence. 

“Good, because you’re never getting rid of me,” Harry added, kissing him back. 

“I don’t plan to, Scarhead,” Draco teased. 

“Good, because I love you, Ferret,” Harry teased back.


End file.
